Save the Empty
by vintage88
Summary: Sam and Freddie, Freddie and Sam, it's always about those two. But what about their other friend? What's her name again... oh right, Carly. Seddie, naturally, but this time Carly has something to say about it.
1. Chapter 1

_Prologue._

It was no good, that guilt. She tried; she really did try to enjoy it, pressing her lips harder against his to make it like something that was seen in those sappy movies that were really only good for visual kissing advice. She wanted to bring it to life, yet there was part of her that kept mentioning the fact that if they were at the stage she had thought they were at, she wouldn't have to worry about bringing anything to life; it should have just happened naturally. She kept pushing against his lips until she realized that just because she was kissing him hard didn't mean there was anything passionate about it. With a small sigh, she pulled back from him at last. It was then that a million guilt-ridden ideas whirled around in Carly's head.

When had she started to become so bitter? Carly had always been scheming, but she was pretty sure it had always been a good kind of scheming, if that was even possible. None of her plans had ever really been made for only her benefit, and they had certainly never been made to hurt someone. But then there was her most recent plan. It had developed out of the feeling of isolation and emptiness. Why did it make her feel so blameworthy?

It wasn't her fault though – at least not all of it! Carly wanted to scream in frustration at the thought of things just going back to how they were only weeks ago. She hated them not needing her. They were supposed to be like three peas in a pod, but as of late she had just felt like a third wheel.

Carly sat with her knees pulled up to her chest, almost forgetting that he was only a foot away from her. She was completely oblivious of the awkward tension that he felt, but what she was aware of was how wrong his being there was. So maybe Carly had made a little mistake – a little mistake that could have a huge impact on the future – but she wasn't sure if she should fix it or not.

Guilt was brewing in Carly's chest, making the edges of her eyes sting. What was she supposed to do? The old Carly, the Carly she was only a week ago, would have fixed it; she would have put her friends before herself even if it meant their happiness would be her sorrow. But maybe the new Carly didn't want to be shafted in the corner anymore; that would mean leaving the mess as it was and pretending all was bliss. Would the old Carly fix it, or had the new Carly done enough? Perhaps she just needed an even _newer_ Carly.

No, it certainly was no good, that guilt.

* * *

_A/N – So here is just a short introduction to my newest fanfic. I'm sure it doesn't make much sense now, but don't worry, it will soon enough. Short, I know, but I'm hoping to update soon. I'm busy with things, but I'll do my best... I'm glad to be writing again. _

_x0_

_Vintage88_


	2. Chapter 2

A desperate croak escaped Freddie's mouth as he stuck his tongue out for what must have been the fiftieth time. For the past five minutes, he had been using Carly's mouthwash, constantly swishing it around in his mouth before spitting it out, examining his tongue, and taking another large gulp. No matter how hard he tried to clean his mouth with it though, whenever Freddie poked out his tongue, it always appeared blue.

"Argh!" Freddie then cried when he realized he had finished off the mouthwash. Storming out of the washroom and into the iCarly studio, he pointed an accusing finger at Sam. "You!" he bellowed to the blonde girl who said casually on a beanbag.

"Yes, me," she responded without looking at him. "Me Sam, you Freddie, understand the difference Freddork?" When he didn't respond, Sam lifted her flashing eyes up just enough to meet his own livid ones. A wicked grin spread as smoothly across her face as butter, asking, "Care for some more jellybeans?"

Freddie's mouth dropped in shock. "Of course I don't want any more jellybeans!" he cried, "It was those stupid things that dyed my tongue blue. What the hell are in those things?"

Sam scoffed. "What do you think? Blue dye, clearly; I found them at some old magic shop. They were on sale, which probably meant they were expired or something."

Feeling like he was going to be sick, Freddie had to turn himself away from Sam. She was evil, pure evil! There was no way Freddie would be able to hide his tongue from his mom, who was sure to freak no matter how he tried to explain it. Freddie's stomach grumbled, filled with old, tongue-dyed jellybeans. He should have known to be suspicious when Sam refused to eat any of them herself.

"Well aren't you going to apologize," Freddie asked lamely. He glared at her before realizing she was no longer looking at him. Sam had turned her eyes back to the cell phone in her hands which were typing out something frantically. At a second glance, Freddie suddenly realized that it was _his_ phone.

Just as the realization smacked him right in the face, Sam said darkly, "Would you like to hear the text message you're about to send to Connor McDuggan?" Her notorious smirk began to crawl across her face which was never a good sign.

Freddie daringly took a step towards Sam, but her eyes snapped up at him, warning him to stop. "Connor McDuggan?" Freddie repeated the name of the 6'6" beast who would gladly beat up anyone for no reason at all.

"Dear Connor," Sam read the text aloud, "just a question. Why do you have bigger tits than your girlfriend? Call me! Love, Freddie."

Freddie felt his face pale. "You cannot send that," he cried. "Connor will murder me if he gets that text, or worse, my mom will get the bill for that text and then she'll murder me!"

Sam rolled her eyes. How pathetic was Freddie for caring more about a lousy phone bill than his life. "Well," Sam sighed, "it is summer. It's not like you'll run into Connor as long as you stay indoors for the next month, although I can't make any promises when September creeps around…"

There was a sudden roar, starling Sam to look up from the phone in her hands. She only just caught a glimpse of Freddie as he tackled her. The two of them flew off the beanbag and skid across the floor of the studio, Freddie landing on top of Sam. "Give back my phone!" he cried as he reached for Sam's outstretched hand and snatched his phone back – almost too easily, Freddie thought for a moment.

Freddie, who had practically been having a heart attack at the thought of that text being sent, suddenly froze as he looked at his phone. His fear was immediately replaced by confusion because there was no text. After a moment, he asked slowly, "Sam… you do realize the phone isn't even on, right?"

"Yup."

"Was there even ever a text message?"

"Nope."

"So you just said you were going to send Connor that text because…"

"Hey," Sam snapped, "I don't need to explain my actions to you. I never need a reason to do anything."

Dropping the phone, Freddie exhaled very slowly, too embarrassed with his overreaction to move very far. He closed his eyes while asking, "Why the hell do you insist on doing this to me every day, Sam? You're childish teasing never does anything productive. It just slows the whole day down and irritates everyone else who has to listen to you. It never gets us anywhere!"

There was a short moment before Sam responded. Her eyebrows arched slightly as she said in a soft, slow voice, "Well, look where it got us this time." She cocked her head and waited for Freddie to look back at her. It was only then that Freddie remembered Sam was still below him. He felt his face redden, but before he could jump off of her, Sam scrunched her nose and stuck her tongue out at him in that immature-Sam way. It was small and pink and stopped just before Freddie's lips.

He couldn't move, he couldn't even breathe. Just as Freddie considered opening his mouth to say something, Sam screamed "Now get off of me you fat dolt!" Sam suddenly slammed her knees up into Freddie's stomach and shoved him off of her. He let out a muffled groan of pain as he landed on the floor, clutching now-bruised, jellybean-filled stomach.

God he hated her – and he wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

* * *

The door to the Shay apartment burst open and Spencer could just make the moving flash as Carly as she sprinted towards the fridge. Carly stopped from hitting the fridge just in time, opening it up and staring inside with wide, fearful eyes. "I'm sorry… I'm late…" she gaped for air, "Sam… the fridge… it's… it's… perfect?"

Spencer rose to his feet and arched an eyebrow at his sister. "Are you extremely hungry or something?" he asked her.

"No," Carly cried, still in disbelief that the fridge was the exact same as she had left it. "I'm late for iCarly rehearsals and I thought that, with nothing to do, Sam would have attacked the fridge or something and - we don't have a pet hamster?" Carly's focus suddenly shifted 180 degrees at the sight of the hamster walking across a large canvas. It was white and puffy and left purple footprints wherever it stepped.

Spencer followed her gaze, almost forgetting about the fluffy thing himself. "Oh, you're right, we don't own a hamster, but my friend Socko does. Carly this is Sheldon, Sheldon this is Carly."

Skeptical, Carly took a step towards Spencer's latest art project. "Let me guess," she said, "you're going to paint Sheldon's feet and then let him walk across the canvas so that he leaves rainbow footprints wherever he goes?"

"Exactly!" Spencer cried, "Hamster footprints everywhere, all the colors of the rainbow – except for peawee green. God, that color just reminds me of puke every time."

"Ew, I know," Carly agreed, "good thing you eliminated that color." After watching Sheldon for a moment longer, Carly let out a sigh. "Well I guess I don't have to worry about Sam raiding the fridge; instead I'll have to worry about Sheldon getting magenta on the carpet. I wonder why Sam's not hungry," Carly added. She had said it aloud more for herself, but when Spencer heard, he quickly turned to her.

"Please, Sam's always hungry," he pointed out the obvious. "She was just too busy upstairs because Freddie's with her." Spencer grinned at his sister, raising his eyebrows up and down dramatically.

Carly started to gag. "Spencer, don't even go there. If anything, Sam's busy stapling Freddie to the wall or something. I should probably go and make sure he's still breathing."

Spencer shrugged carelessly. "You're probably right," he agreed, "but we both know what's going on between them." This caused Carly to stop in her tracks, and her hiccup caused Spencer's eyes to bulge. "Oh come on! You can't tell me you haven't noticed Sam and Freddie and Freddie and Sam. It's so obvious they have a little you-know-what for each other?"

"You mean a _crush_?" Carly asked him. The word tasted bitter on Carly's tongue.

"Well if that's what you kids call it today," Spencer said before pausing. "No wait, you're right; they are crushing on each other. But seriously Carly, please tell me you've noticed this."

Swallowing nervously, Carly nodded. "Of course I noticed," she said tensely, casually making her way up the stairs, "I am their best friend after all. But being their best friend, I also know that this is just a phase. It's going to pass."

"How do you know that?"

Carly thought about this for a moment before her eyes suddenly grew to the size of saucers. Letting out a scream, she pointed and yelled, "Quick Spencer! Sheldon's getting away!"

Spencer's muscles tensed as he whipped himself around. "Crap," he yelled, thinking he would have to spend the next hour following purple footprints after a puff of a hamster. Looking down though, he realized that Sheldon had not moved from the canvas. In fact, the hamster had curled up into a tiny ball and fallen asleep, smearing paint on his snowy coat. Spencer frowned at this before turning back around to confront his sister. By the time he had though, Carly had already bolted up the stairs.


	3. Chapter 3

"Cut!"

Carly groaned as she rolled her eyes to where Freddie stood off the iCarly set. Clenching her jaw, she waited to see what new reason Freddie had come up with to stop their rehearsals. For the past hour, little rehearsing for the webshow had been accomplished because every seven minutes, Freddie would make a remark on what Sam was doing wrong. Carly had been pretty good at holding back her irritation until now, but just when she was about to say something, Sam, who had never been good at holding her tongue, exploded with anger.

"What the hell did I do now, Fredweird?" she snapped at him.

"You're not pronouncing your words," Freddie replied simply. "How is anyone supposed to understand what you're saying if you're mumbling everything? Enunciate clearly, and I'll stop yelling cut. Just practice saying this first; _the rain in Spain falls mainly on the plains."_

Sam screamed now, "Shut up! Do I need to remind you that you're not the only fucking director around here? Carly hasn't said a word on how I pronounce words so stop being such a nitpicky freak, right Carly?"

Just as Carly was about to open her mouth to respond, Freddie immediately cut in, "I just need you to say this once Sam, okay? _The rain in Spain falls mainly _–"

"Go fall on your face!" Sam yelled as she stepped out from behind Carly. From the look of fear on Freddie's face, Carly knew that he immediately regretting being so picky with Sam, even if just for a moment. A sigh escaped from between Carly's lips as she averted her eyes from the fight that was starting between Sam and Freddie. For the whole rehearsal, she had hardly gotten two words in between her friends' constant bickering, but Carly knew why this was. When it came to Sam and Freddie, flirting was substituted with quarrelling, and touching was replaced by fighting. If she had turned to watch them, Carly would have known that behind their grimaces and frustrated-filled eyes would have been the feeling of thrill and secret smiles.

But Carly didn't bother to turn and watch them. Instead, she marched over to a large box and shuffled around the items inside until she had found what she was looking for. After making her way back to the other side of the room, she stopped only inches away from the roughhousing and smashed the two cymbals together that were in her hands. Not expecting this, both Sam and Freddie cried out as they let go of each other to cover their ears.

"Well, not that this wasn't fun," Carly told them tensely, "but I think iCarly rehearsals are finished for today. Freddie, you're mom probably wants you home and Sam… well Sam, I guess you're always here."

Sam nodded approvingly, but she shot an unsure glance at Freddie. He wasn't moving from his spot, as if in protest, or as if he wasn't quite sure what was going on. He couldn't remember a time when Carly had told him to just leave. "But the show," he stammered, "we need to work on –"

Carly smashed the cymbals together again to get him to stop. As if that noise had snapped Sam back to her senses, she ordered, "Piss off you nerd! Don't you get it, we don't want you here."

_At least she got half of it right,_ Carly thought to herself as she watched Freddie pack up his things and leave, yet a small part of her tinged with guilt as the door to the studio closed. The failed iCarly rehearsal hadn't been Freddie's entire fault. Sam dying his tongue blue definitely had a major part in the day's events.

After a moment, Sam let out an exaggerated sigh as she plummeted back into a beanbag. "Ugh, I'm exhausted. Trying to punch some sense into Freddie all rehearsal is a lot of work." When Carly didn't respond, Sam continued, "Did you see the way he was out to get me? Everything I did was a mistake to him, and then he had to pull out that lame-o tongue twister enunciating thing. What do you even call those?"

Instead of answering the question, Carly burst, "You know, maybe you wouldn't be so tired if you stopped picking on Freddie. The maybe we'd be able to get some actual work done."

Sam's eyes bulged. "What?" she asked in shock. She sounded like Carly had just asked her to give up food for forty-eight hours. "Is that even possible? I mean he's just so easy to pick on. Everyone picks on Freddie."

"I don't!" Carly retorted, but after Sam shot her a glance, she rolled her eyes and muttered, "Okay, maybe I do a little, but the point is I know when to stop. The two of you just wasted of my time, not to mention that filming iCarly won't be as nearly as good as it's supposed to be."

Sam waved her hand lazily in the air. "Come on Carls, we must be three of the few teenagers in Seattle who are still working in the summer. Our fans will forgive us if we have one bad episode. It's not like they have anything to worry about. But you know what I'm worried about? My stomach; picking on Freddie always makes me _sooooo_ hungry."

At this response, Carly felt herself bubble over. She had to stop herself from grabbing her head in frustration. After spending an hour of not getting a word in, she still felt like she was being ignored. Could no one hear her anymore? "Do you like Freddie?" she suddenly asked Sam, unable to hold the question in any longer.

Sam's face stayed perfectly still as if she hadn't heard Carly quite correctly. Staring at Carly nonchalantly, she shook her head slightly and asked, "What?"

"Do you like Freddie?" Carly repeated herself. "I'm asking if you have a thing for Freddie because, I don't know, you two have kind of been obsessed with each other and you're always teasing him which could mean…"

Sam suddenly gagged. "Are you serious? You think I like Freddie? Oh my God Carly, you just made me vomit in my mouth."

Finally, a small smile cracked over Carly's lips. She allowed herself to laugh slightly, "Well I don't know, I just had this idea because… I don't know, anything can happen in the summer."

Sam shook her head quickly. "Anything except that," she exclaimed. "Ugh, where did you get an idea like that? Honestly, me and the dweeb; I thought you knew me better?"

Carly laughed again, allowing herself to crash into a beanbag beside Sam. There was a silence between the two for a moment, and Carly couldn't help but wonder if Sam was thinking about Freddie. As if sensing this, Sam added, "Besides, doesn't Freddie still love, uh, you? I mean he was always so open about that."

"I guess," Carly nodded, remembering the days when she used to put Freddie in a complete trance with something as silly as a nose kiss. After giving it some thought, she had realized it had been months since Freddie had shown any of those signs. "I think he's grown out of that though," she said at last with a slight frown forming on her brow.

The way it was looking to Carly, Sam didn't like Freddie and never had – she had almost felt stupid for asking Sam in the first place after the response she was given. This certainly didn't give any detail as to what Freddie was feeling though, but if Carly, and even Spencer, could see that there was something between her two friends, maybe it only had to do with Freddie in the first place. Looking back into the past again, Carly determined it really had been ages since Freddie had announced any plot of his that mentioned him taking the place as her second husband. If he had liked her once though, surely there was a chance that that same flame still existed somewhere in him, didn't it?

"Sam?" Carly was the first to speak after some time. "Are you positive you don't like Freddie at all?"

"Are you trying to get me to throw up on your rug?" Sam responded bitterly.

And with that as the answer, the two friends returned to their funny silence, both thinking of ideas that had similar bases yet were so completely different.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam hated many things. She hated being hungry; she hated losing; she hated all that glittered; she hated feeling hopeless; she hated when she was too tired to come up with insults fast enough; she hated regretting any of her actions. The list could go on forever, always changing, never resting for things were constantly being added on and off. Sam's most recent add onto the list was summer heat after the sun had melted. Why couldn't there be the cool, crisp weather one felt during early fall when it was summer? Why did it always have to be so miserably hot whenever school got out?

For the umpteenth time, she stuck her hand through the open window so that just part of her body could feel the air-condition that was inside the room she sat out of. As she did, she saw a familiar figure moving around, causing herself to turn around to face him. With a grin, Sam spoke.

"You know," she said, her grin widening at the sight of Freddie jumping at her voice, "it would be so easy to steal this camping chair. Better watch out Benson, because the second it stops being so unbearably hot this thing is gone."

Freddie stared at Sam in awe, gawping at the blonde who sat out on the old stairwell. "How did you get up there?" he finally asked, for he had been sure he'd locked the doors after entering his home – one of his mother's rules.

"Climbed up," Sam answered with a shrug. "That would have been hell itself whether it was this temperature out or not. I have no freakin' idea why I did it."

"Me neither," muttered Freddie. After a moment, he asked her, "Can I join you?"

"No! Now piss off."

Freddie, who would have been surprised with any other answer, ignored Sam's order and found himself climbing through the window. The humid heat hit him immediately, and with no longer having a chair, Freddie had to lean against the brick wall. The air was too heavy to stand in without any support. Swallowing, Freddie shifted his eyes to Sam who sat slumped in his chair, a veil of blonde hair covering her face. He bit the inside of his lower cheek as he spoke awkwardly, "So… what's up."

It took a moment for Sam to respond. To Freddie, it made her look like she wasn't entirely sure what she was doing out on the stairwell. This may have been because Sam didn't know why she was there either, or what may have possessed her to climb up hundreds of steps in the dark to Freddie's window. With a sigh, she ignored the question and instead said, "It's way too hot out here."

"I'd invite you inside but I don't think I'm allowed," Freddie informed her.

Sam rolled her eyes. "As if I'd want to go into your eerily perfect house; it's like the Twilight Zone in there."

"Why aren't you at Carly's?" Freddie couldn't help but ask, for part of him was just dying to know why Sam would have picked him over her best friend, even if it was only once.

Once again, Sam ignored the question. Instead, she jumped to her feet and walked to the edge of the platform. She placed her hands on the railing and dropped her head backwards. "It. Is. So. Hot. Out. Here! I can't even breathe. I mean what the hell is going on? What the fuck is wrong with everyone?"

Freddie stiffened, but quickly reached out to grab Sam's arm. "You can't swear out here," he hissed at her, "especially not that loud. My mom has ears trained to pick up any blasphemous words."

"Any _what_ words?" Sam finally turned to him, eyes narrowed. She seemed irritated by something – perhaps it was Freddie's use of a word larger than her vocabulary, but before he could explain she continued her rant. "You know why I came here?" Sam suddenly snapped, "Because sometimes it just makes me so mad when I can't answer her questions properly."

"Who are you talking about?" Freddie frowned, but was immediately cut off.

"So then I got really angry and decided to just do something completely stupid," Sam continued. "That's when it hit me to come here, so here I am Freddork."

Freddie was still frowning, trying to make sense of Sam's words. He replayed the scene a few times over, a few words highlighting in his mind. "Hey," he said at last, "I'm not stupid if that's what you're insinuating. I think it's time you just leave Sam."

The blood in Sam's veins suddenly ran cold. Although she was still unsure of her motive for being where she was, and didn't exactly know what she wanted to accomplish, Sam knew that things weren't going the way she wanted them to. For whatever reason, she began to feel anxious and decided to calm herself down, no longer finding it so hot outside. Turning to Freddie, she asked quaintly, "So what's up Freddie?"

At this, Freddie shot Sam a look of disbelief. After a moment, he exhaled heavily and said, "Well, I had just finished dinner when I entered my room to find that you were out on the fire escape, and I'm still trying to figure out why. I really haven't understood anything you've said so far."

"Please," scoffed Sam, "I don't ever need to make sense." This being true, Freddie laughed lightly, but became very aware when Sam didn't join in and stopped short. Then, unexpectedly, Sam exclaimed, "Do you feel guilty about the rehearsals earlier? Carly was pretty disappointed in us."

Freddie nodded quickly. "Yeah, I guess I regret the all the fighting."

"All of it?" Sam's face clouded over suddenly. Her blue eyes, sad and tired, shifted out to the city. There was a few seconds of complete silence before somewhere, down below, the sound a police siren could be heard. The two of them leaned over the edge of the fire escape and watched as flashing red and blue lights. The car buzzed and zigzagged its way down the street before sharply turning up another, its sound disappearing with it.

A smirk escaped onto Freddie's mouth. "Did you cause that?" he asked, referring to the police car's mad dash. "What law did you break now, Sam Puckett? Let me guess, you let a wild boar lose into a hotel lobby. Or you set the principle's car on fire. You did say you wanted to do something stupid."

"Don't be such a smartass," Sam replied wryly, her own natural smirk forming. "Besides, none of those things you listed are stupid. They are illegal and wickedly brilliant and take too much effort for this night."

Freddie's brow furrowed. "Okay," he said uncertainly, "but it's still stupid because it's illegal. Anything that's illegal is stupid Sam, and those are words you should listen to."

"We're talking about two different kinds of stupid though." Sam shook her head as if it should have been obvious.

"That's impossible," Freddie retorted, "how can there be two different kinds of stupid."

"Just shut up, you dolt."

Freddie threw his hands up into the air, turning his back and walking a few steps away from where he stood. He couldn't believe that his conversations with Sam always led back to the two of them disagreeing on something and then him being smacked around with insults. Was it even possible to have a normal conversation with her? When he turned around to confront her, Freddie found that he was caught off guard to see that Sam was already facing him, one leg out and a hand on her hip. Slight fear of Sam's look of assurance caused him to choke on his words briefly, but he was determined to not back down.

"What was I thinking," he said, "when I decided to just let you stay here? I should have kicked you out the second I saw you. I could have called the police if I wanted to because you were stealing my chair. And I wish you would stop insulting me, especially when you're in my own home. Just grow up already."

It was here that Sam suddenly took a step towards Freddie, and his words ended there. "Grow up?" she repeated, giving him a little shove. "Well I think you should smarten up, because firstly, I'm not in your home. I'm on a fire escape which anyone can use because that's what it's there for, so I can make fun of you all I want." She shoved him again. "Secondly, I was never actually stealing your camping chair, I was just using it. Were you really planning on calling the cops on a girl sitting on a chair in a spot that's practically public property?"

Sam shoved Freddie one final time so that his back was pressed up against the wall. His eyes were wide with fear, and he knew that some sort of punishment was in order. _Please don't give me a black eye,_ he begged silently, _please don't break my cheekbone. If anything, just give me a swollen lip!_ Freddie winced as she placed her hands on his shoulders and he waited for the worst, so imagine his surprise when Sam leaned in and kissed him instead.

Freddie was unable to move. There was no way this was real… only it was. It was surprisingly soft the kiss, no aggression whatsoever; just Sam and Freddie with his eyes frozen open. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do in this situation, and didn't try to stop when Sam parted his lips and touched her tongue to his. It was almost as if she were trying to taste the blue dye that was still on from earlier.

But it all happened so fast. One second, Sam's lips were on Freddie's, and the next, Sam pulled back and snapped, "And thirdly, _that_ is doing something completely stupid."

Removing her hands from his shoulders, Sam stormed away, climbing through the window and disappearing into the Benson apartment. Freddie was only half aware of the shrill scream that emerged from inside. Part of him wanted to raise his hands to his lips, but he was still too shocked to fully move. His raving thoughts were rudely interrupted by another short scream, and his mother appeared at the window.

"Freddie," she exclaimed, voice high with tension and eyes wide, "Freddie! There was a girl in the apartment. What was she doing here? You know that no one was supposed to be over. Was she with you?" Some mumbled words left Freddie's mouth, but nothing too clear to understand. It didn't matter though, for Mrs. Benson continued to rant her shock. "What was she doing here? Her feet weren't even clean; she left footprints on the floor. Why was she here Freddie? Why didn't you kick her out immediately?"

_Good question._


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N – Hellooo! Just wanted to say that some of you have commented on how this fanfic hasn't received very many reviews – possibly because my other iCarly fanfic had received a lot more by this chapter? I just wanted to say though that I still really appreciate the reviews that I have, and that it's not the number of reviews that make a good story. Let's just hope that other people scanning through iCarly realize that too and decide to give this fanfic a try!!**

**As long as I'm coming up with something that reviewers say they enjoy, then that's all that matters ;) Thanks!**

_**x0**_

_**Vintage88**_

* * *

Carly and Spencer stood next to each other, both of them with arms crossed and one eyebrow raised. Although the siblings looked very much alike at that moment, their expressions were slightly different. Carly stared downwards dully with clouded, bored eyes. Spencer, on the other hand, had twisted his mouth into a funny, lopsided line that made it look as if he were trying to stop himself from bursting into tears. The two of them were both watching Sheldon, the puffy hamster who had curled himself up onto the canvas. His feet were tinted blue, and a line of paint on his head made it look like he had a mohawk the shade of burnt orange.

"I don't know what's wrong with him," Spencer finally cried. "All Sheldon wanted to do this morning was sleep so I let him sleep. But it's three in the afternoon and he's sleeping more than a teenage boy!"

"Look Spencer, he's fine," Carly tried to reassure him. "How many hamsters do you know that run across around on canvases with paint on their feet? He's probably just exhausted."

Spencer shook his head frantically. "But what if he's sick?" he cried, "I can't just return a sick Sheldon to Socko."

Carly rolled her eyes and muttered, "Well it's better than returning a dead Sheldon…"

"What did you say?"

"Nothing!" Carly quickly tried to correct herself, "I mean apart from muttering that you should just let Sheldon rest, I really didn't say anything significant at all. Just give him time, alright? Sorry I'm not a hamster veterinarian," she added at the sight of Spencer's long face, "but I really did just come down here to grab a pomegranate."

Spencer let out a short laugh, "Uh, no you didn't, because there is no pomegranate anymore. I gave it to Sheldon for dinner last night. Wow, you should have seen him attack that thing! He had finished the whole fruit off in less than twelve minutes."

Finding this hard to believe, Carly just narrowed her eyes at Sheldon. He had eaten her pomegranate! "Maybe that's why he's sick," she pointed out. "Maybe hamsters aren't supposed to eat pomegranates. That, or he's eating the paint off his feet which can't be good for him either."

Spencer's eyes suddenly bulged. "So he is sick!" he shouted. He swooped down and picked up Sheldon, fitting the hamster into one hand. "Don't worry little guy," he cooed, "I'll make you healthy again." With that, Spencer bolted away and disappeared into his room. Carly rolled her eyes again, but after a moment, suddenly wished that Spencer and Sheldon were still there to distract her from her nerves.

Carly wasn't sure why, but she felt like her belly was full of butterflies. No wait – it was worse than that. Carly felt like she _was_ one of the butterflies in her stomach, because aimlessly flying around in a dark cave and hitting other lost butterflies must have been pretty terrifying. _Come on Carly,_ she scolded herself silently, _snap out of it. You have nothing to worry about. _After all, it was only Freddie.

It took only a soft knock on the door to cause Carly to jump. Quickly running her fingers through her long, dark hair, she called the visitor to come in. No surprise to Carly, it was Freddie who slowly made his way in, eyeing around the room consciously.

"Freddie, hey!" Carly beamed, flipping her hair the second he looked at her. "Do you want anything to eat before we go upstairs? We have soda in the fridge if you want."

When Freddie shook his head, Carly suggested they head up to the iCarly studio. It had been two days since the last failed attempt at iCarly rehearsals, and Carly had purposely avoided her two friends. It gave her time to fully think and plot out her plan. She talked bubbly on the way upstairs, and her extremely good mood seemed to rub off onto Freddie, who had looked resentful at being in the Shay apartment at first glance. He then hesitated before entering the studio, only poking his head in to look around.

After a moment, Freddie frowned and asked softly, "Is Sam here?"

Carly felt a twinge of annoyance at hearing this, but did her best to stay cool. "Not yet," she said quickly, "but you know Sam. She never cares about anything, including being on time." After a moment, Carly added, "Is everything okay?"

With a final scan of the studio, Freddie relaxed slightly and stepped in. "Yeah, I'm fine. Something… something weird happened yesterday though."

From that sentence, Carly was unable to tell if Freddie was referring to Sam at all. No hint in his voice or change of his expression clearly gave it away, but she didn't want to risk. "Well if it's weird then you can just forget it ever happened," she replied quickly, "because that was yesterday and today is today and as I always say, you should just live in the moment."

"You don't always say that."

"Well I'm sure I've said it at least once before." Carly forced out a laugh, sitting herself down on a beanbag. She then patted the beanbag next to her, motioning for Freddie to join her. With a shrug, he did, and Carly watched him closely. Just as he was about to sit down, she suddenly cried out, "Wait, careful, you're about to sit on something."

Stopping himself, Freddie twisted his neck to glance down at the beanbag. His brow knit together as he picked up a book that had _carelessly_ been left on the seat. Flipping through the wide pages, he let out a small laugh and asked, "Is this a scrapbook? I didn't know you were into scrapbooking. God, my mom would love to hear that."

Carly shrugged with a small, knowing smile, "Oh, what a coincidence. Here, let's look at it together." She then pulled her beanbag from behind so that it was smashed right up to Freddie's. Crossing one leg over the other so that her lifted foot was only millimeters from Freddie's own leg, she leaned over eagerly and examined the scrapbook. It was filled of pictures, all of Carly, Sam and Freddie. Some pictures were only a year old, while others had been taken back in elementary school.

"When did you make this?" Freddie asked in disbelief, "It looks new because it's so well put together. And I only know this because of my mom," he then added before locking his eyes on a photograph of Sam. Sam looked absolutely livid in it, her blues eyes wickedly dark and wavy hair flailing behind her as she frozen in time, about to chuck a tomato at whoever held the camera. Nonetheless, there was something striking about the angry girl in the photo, and even Carly noticed this.

Clearing her throat, Carly flipped forward a few pages in the scrapbook, and _just happened_ to open the book to a page where Freddie looked to be proposing to her. Carly let out a laugh and squealed, "I remember this! Remember how you used to be madly in love with me when we were younger."

"Oh my God, yes." Freddie felt his face redden, "That was so embarrassing."

"It wasn't embarrassing, it was cute." Carly paused in thought before asking, "Whatever happened to that little crush of yours?"

"Not too sure. I probably gave up you after you turned me down for the hundredth time."

"I'm sure it wasn't a hundred times." After glancing at Freddie though, she sighed and admitted, "Okay, maybe it was a hundred times. But I was young back then. We both were. I couldn't take you seriously at that age because you were my best friend."

"We weren't that young," Freddie pointed out. "I think it must have ended only last year."

Carly pursed her lips for a moment, thinking hard to pull the conversation back to where she wanted it to be. Swallowing once, she dropped her eyes and said, "Well, whatever age it was, I'm older now and with age you start to come to certain realizations. I kind of miss that crush of yours, Freddie Benson." It was here that Carly lifted up her eyes just enough so that she was staring up at Freddie through her dark eyelashes. He was watching her with a dazed expression, as he thought everything he was hearing was a dream. Once a lopsided smile crossed Freddie's lips, Carly knew that she had hit the right note.

It hadn't been very hard, her plan. It was amazing what one late night of putting a scrapbook together to bring memories of the better times could do. With a tiny smirk, Carly moved a little closer and lowered her eyes down to Freddie's mouth. Already she could feel him leaning into her. It really had been easy to get to Freddie, but Carly decided that he was a teenage boy after all.

"Am I late or something?"

As if she had been waiting for the perfect moment to interrupt, Sam entered the studio. Only it wasn't the perfect moment, not to Carly anyways. To be quite honest, she really had planned so far ahead in her plan as to how to react when Sam arrived. Nonetheless, she pulled back from Freddie and casually rose to her feet.

"No," replied Carly with a smile. "Freddie was just early."

If Freddie was about to protest or question this mark, he was never given the opportunity. Carly continued, words leaving her mouth so smoothly one wouldn't have thought that she had been stopped just when she was about to kiss Freddie. Carly rose to her feet, announcing, "Well, I'm going to get some fruit-on-a-stick from downstairs before we start rehearsal. I'll grab you guys some."

It was completely silent as Carly walked out of the room, but she felt herself glowing with achievement to really notice or care. Sam bit her top lip with her upper teeth, not moving from the doorway. She glanced at Freddie and asked after a moment, "What's that?"

She was referring to the large book that lay open on his lap. After some hesitation, Freddie replied, "It's a photo album; one of Carly's scrapbooks."

Sam scoffed, scrunching up her nose as if Freddie's words smelt fowl. "Carly doesn't do scrapbook making."

There was no response from Freddie. He just continued to look through the scrapbook, although unable to focus. He couldn't bring himself to look at Sam after everything that had happened. If he had been brave enough to look though, Freddie would have realized that Sam looked normal. She stood like she always stood – slouched posture, bored expression and without a care in the world. If she had had any feelings towards the fact that she had walked in on Carly and Freddie kissing time, he wouldn't have known. Sam never would have allowed him to see it.


	6. Chapter 6

With age, you start to come to certain realizations.

Carly had said those exact words to Freddie because, quite simply, it was true. A quote such as that usually would have been more suited for someone who was turning fifty and had realized that, after years of working in a safe office, they would be happier taking the risk of being an artist. Sixteen year old Carly though felt that she had already learned a lot since she was a child, and therefore any choices or actions she made were mature ones.

For example, had it not been terribly mature of Carly to finally accept the truth that she was lonely while with her best friends? And even better was the fact that she had decided to do something about it. No longer was she about to stand on the sidelines while Sam and Freddie flirted in their own idiosyncratic language. Carly was sure that feeling like an outsider in your own group of friends was the worst feeling in the world, and she had become determined to feel the same connection that had once appeared Sam and Freddie. Carly could not stand the feeling of being empty any longer.

For this reason, Carly slowed her pace as she walked along the city streets and turned her eyes towards Freddie. Letting her mouth curl up into a mysterious smile, she asked, "You okay Freddie?"

Carly's voice pulled him back from some far-off thought, allowing him to grin at her. "Of course I am," he answered.

They had been going on a walk, the two of them. Carly had invited him and Freddie had eagerly agreed. Not a whole lot had been said between them, but Carly was sure that silence was a good thing. Sometimes nothing needed to be said to express a feeling, and taking this seriously, she grabbed Freddie's hand. He automatically slid his fingers between hers. Freddie's hand, Carly realized, was not warm along with the Seattle summer heat, but refreshingly cold.

* * *

"What are you doing here?"

"Why does it matter?"

"You can't just invite yourself inside."

"The front door was open."

"No it wasn't!"

Sam, who sat in a cushy desk chair, allowed the chair to spin around in full circles. She acted as if she weren't in the middle of a serious discussion. When the chair came to a complete stop facing Freddie, she sighed and rolled her eyes, admitting, "Okay fine, I picked the lock. Not because I actually want to be here," Sam then added, "but because I saw you and Carly in the park."

Freddie clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to grab the phone and call 911. He just wanted to accuse Sam of breaking into his house, send her to jail, and not have to face for the rest of summer. Her unannounced visits killed him so many ways. "That doesn't explain why you're here," he said tensely.

"Well, I didn't _just_ see you two in the park," Sam continued, an unimpressed cloud darkening her face. "I saw you two practically sucking face, and in public too! You're getting sloppy Fredlard, what if somebody else saw?"

"Get the hell out of my house!"

Freddie's face had turned an adorable shade of crimson, a sight that made it impossible for Sam to not smirk at him. "I can't believe you used the word 'hell' in your own room," she _tsk_ed mockingly. "Is the Carly and Freddie and Freddie and Carly topic too sensitive for you?"

Trying to calm himself down, Freddie held up his hands defensively. "Look Sam," he told her, "why don't you just go talk about this kind of girl stuff with Carly? I'm sure whatever kind of detail you're looking for, she'll tell you."

"Ew, for God's sake Freddie! Why would I ever want that kind of detail about you? Oh my God, are you trying to get me to pass out or something? I just wanted to know if you liked Carly." Hardly more than a second had passed after asking this question when Sam pounced and cried, "You're hesitating! You don't really like Carly do you, you're just using her. That's just sick."

Freddie rolled his eyes at this. Rather than unleashing his fury on Sam, he said calmly, "Just grow up Sam. Look, I'm sorry if you had to see Carly and me at the park and it upset you or something, but don't go accusing me of anything just yet."

Well that certainly wasn't the answer Sam had been expecting. She couldn't come up with a retort quick enough, and wanted to kick herself in the shin. Freddie had just drained the fun out of their whole argument, and Sam was finding herself at a loss of words. "I'm… not upset," she finally stammered.

"Come on Sam. You just kissed me the other night after sneaking onto the fire escape, and now you've sneaked back into my room. Why?" He paused for a moment. Just repeating the memory made Freddie's heart pump faster and his body heat up. "Maybe you're jealous or something?"

Sam's mouth dropped open. "Jealous?" she repeated in disgust and rose out of the chair, causing Freddie to take one step back. "I'm not fucking jealous of you and Carly and whatever the hell you think you have," she spoke slowly, her voice dangerous. "That kiss was only happened because I wanted to do something stupid, and oh my God, if anyone knows how stupid it was, it's me."

A moment of silence followed, Sam completely livid and Freddie just not scared enough. This wasn't the type of fight Sam had been expecting. It infuriated her to see him more skeptical than fearful, and this caused a pathetic ramble to leave her mouth. "And I bet the only reason you were with Carly was because you knew I would see and you wanted to get back at me for kissing you on the fire escape and making a fool out of yourself!"

Another silence followed. So… who was making a fool out of themselves?

Sam exhaled through clenched teeth before storming out of Freddie's room. She had never regretted anything more than showing up at the Benson's apartment that night. Freddie, on the other hand, couldn't help but feel that he had just somehow won. Boldly, he stepped out into the hallway and called after Sam, "Tell me again, why did you come here again?"

The only response was a stream of swearwords that left Sam's mouth in an angry mutter. She swung open the front door of the apartment, and without the usual witty remark, stormed out. A wisp of blonde curls were the last to fly through the door, and it was those same curls that stayed put in Freddie's mind.

* * *

**A/N - Hmm, what an argument. Sam claimed Freddie was being too sensitive, but was he the only one? :O :P**

**x0**

**Vintage88**


	7. Chapter 7

"Socko's going to kill me."

Spencer ran his fingers through his thick brown hair, exhaling loudly through his mouth. His head swirled with emotions. Part of him was frustrated that he wouldn't be able to complete his painting while another part of him was sad for the sick Sheldon. Then there was the other part that feared for the day when he would have to return the hamster to Socko. Socko would feel the same with getting back a sick hamster as anyone else would if their friend had broken something of theirs. For the past few days, Spencer had put all of his waking hours into tending to Sheldon, watching him as he slept, making sure he wasn't too hot or cold, anything - anything he could do to make his room into a hamster sanctuary. This task was surprisingly exhausting, and Spencer would find himself crashing onto his bed as early as 8pm, falling into a heavy sleep until his alarm clock woke him the next morning to perform the same routine.

Carly sat on the floor of Spencer's room, stroking the puff of a thing with one finger. Sheldon seemed completely content when he was asleep, but when he did stir every now and then, he always seemed groggy and incapable of staying awake for long. "Why don't you just call the vet if he's so sick?" Carly asked her brother.

"Because," Spencer, who had thought this over many times before, replied quickly, "the vets will only point out the obvious and say that I shouldn't have been painting Sheldon's feet in the first place. I just thought that he would be better by now since stopping."

After a moment, Spencer grabbed a hamster treat and placed it a few inches away from Sheldon. "Come on Sheldon," he urged encouragingly, "come and get the low fat yogurt treat." Sheldon's nose began to twitch before his eyes opened to two dark slits. The hamster lifted his head up to examine the treat, and just when it looked like he was about to move, he gave up.

"Sheldonnnnn!" Spencer practically growled in frustration. "Ugh, I'm _never_ going to finish my painting. All that time spent on stretching the canvas and buying paint and building a hamster cage… all for nothing!" He paused, collecting his thoughts before turning to Carly and asking, "Do you want an iced coffee? Those things always calm me down."

Carly let out an unsure laugh, "Well I don't know how coffee can calm you down, but sure."

With a nod, Spencer left his room, leaving Carly alone with Sheldon. She stroked his tiny head again with her finger, feeling guilty for the little guy. Something that was once so precious and clueless was now falling apart, all because it had entered the Shay apartment. Carly could see why Spencer was so reluctant to admit the truth to Socko. She just wished there was something she could do to make everything alright again for Sheldon, but she was sure that it would take some crazy, intense hamster medication that would be near impossible to find.

There a light knock on the door, disturbing Carly's thoughts. When she saw it was Freddie though, she made herself smile and said, "Hey, you got my text!"

Freddie nodded, his eyes landing on Sheldon. "I didn't know your brother had a hamster."

"He doesn't. This is Sheldon, Socko's hamster that Spencer wanted to use for an art project. Only Sheldon must be sick because all he wants to do is sleep. He doesn't seem to be getting any better."

Freddie nodded again, hesitating before leaning down to pet the hamster himself. When he didn't say anything, Carly grabbed his arm and pulled him so that he was sitting next to her on the floor. "Are you okay?" she asked him.

"You always ask me that," Freddie replied, still petting Sheldon.

"Well I just want to know."

Lifting his eyes to the ceiling, Freddie answered nonchalantly, "Yeah, I'm okay." He then let out a short, sharp laugh, even though nothing was funny.

* * *

Sam didn't want to be here. It was strange to think how the Shay apartment, once a place she considered her home more than anywhere else, was the same place she had been trying to avoid all week. Sam had done an exceptionally good job at this until Carly had sent her twelve texts in four minutes saying she needed to talk to her. Although Sam was pretty sure she was just going to get in trouble for skipping iCarly rehearsals, she had somehow gotten herself out of her house and made it all the way to the studio door.

The studio door though was exactly where Sam stopped. She _really_ didn't want to be where she was, and decided to just not continue. Instead, she watched Carly who sat on a beanbag. After a moment, Carly frowned and called out, "Sam, you know I can see you through the glass in the door, right?"

Sam wanted to hit her head on the same freakin' glass that had given her away, but instead forced herself inside. "Of course I knew that," she said, her voice bold but laced with embarrassment. "I'm in the studio so often I know it like the back of my hand."

It was here that Carly smoothly arched an eyebrow, and Sam knew that she had dug herself right into a hole. "Okay," Sam admitted, "I'm sorry I haven't been coming to rehearsals all week and that I've been ignoring you and Freddie when you tried to contact me. I don't know; I just couldn't get out of bed on most days. I guess it's hard because it is summer and I don't like feeling like I still have assignments to complete."

Carly seemed shocked by this response, but said anyways, "Oh, well that's good to know. I didn't ask you here to accuse you of that though."

"You didn't?"

"Well, maybe I was going to just a little," Carly added, "but even more, it just feels like I haven't seen you in a while. I thought we could catch up with things over two large smoothies."

"Oh my God, or we could go to that new place that sells cookies like the size of your face!" Sam suggested with excitement. Food always made her excited. When Carly didn't respond with the same emotion as Sam though, she paused for a moment before asking, "Wait, what did you want to catch up with exactly?"

For just a second, Carly's smile faltered, but it was still long enough for Sam to catch it. _Shit_, Sam muttered silently, knowing exactly where this was going. Before she could open her mouth up fast enough to change the subject, Carly said, "So I heard that you saw Freddie and me in the park the other day. I just thought that may have been why you were avoiding us."

"What do you mean," Sam rolled her eyes with a laugh. "I haven't… I haven't been avoiding you. I don't even know what you're talking about. This is a city for crying out loud; Seattle doesn't have any parks."

Carly's smile was completely gone now. Any sense of joy that had been on her face before was now replaced with complete irritation at her friend. "Yes Sam, Seattle has quite a few parks, one of them only two blocks from here actually," Carly told her edgily. "But that's not really the point. What I thought you should know is that Freddie and I are seeing each other now. And before you make some lame comment on how I already see Freddie every day, I mean that we're dating. Like, almost officially."

_Like, almost officially_? What the hell did that mean? Sam didn't bother to ask. Instead she just sighed, but as she did a few words escaped her mouth and she ended up muttered, "Well that was fast."

"Ha! So you did know!"

"I did not," Sam shouted her lie. "I just meant that it was only a week ago when you were asking me if I liked Freddie. Maybe that was your way of telling me you were interested in him or something, but Jesus Carls, don't you think you should keep your best friend updated on these types of things? And why do you think I would avoid you two?"

That last question hadn't actually meant to be said either. It was like Sam's brain and mouth couldn't tell each other apart anymore.

Carly shrugged. "In case you were jealous. Maybe you were nervous because Freddie and I now going out and you were worried you'd be forgotten or something. That's why I wanted to talk to you because I wanted to make sure you were okay with all this and know that we can all still be best friends. Right, Sam?"

Jealous. That was the only word Sam heard before all other sounds faded into a distant murmur. Carly really thought she would be jealous of the two them? Sam found that the more she thought of it, the angrier it made her. As if she would ever envious of something as stupid as a summer fling between Carly and Fredlard. She didn't give a damn if those two went out on lame-ass movie dates or hooked up in some random park. She didn't want anything to do with it anyways. Sam Puckett was not jealous.

"I'm not fucking jealous!" And there Sam went again, shouting out things that really only belonged in her head. Carly licked her lips nervously, skepticism rising in face at the anger in Sam's face. Wanting to make sure no other words ran out of her mouth without permission, Sam turned her back to Carly and approached a shelf in the studio. With one hand, she pretended to be very interested in a jar by opening and closing the lid; with her other hand, she used it to press hard into her lips to keep them closed.

"Well it's nice to know you support us." Carly said after a moment, and Sam wanted to laugh. She made it sound like Sam had just given her blessing for Carly and Freddie to get married. "So do you want to still go and get that cookie?"

"No, I'm just going to head home. I'm not very hungry." These words, unlike so many of the other words Sam had previously spoken, were in fact very true. Her stomach was twisting and churning, making her feel like she was about to vomit. Only it wasn't word vomit this time, but the real deal, like the unknown fear that had suddenly caused Sam to turn cold had made its way into her internal system.

"But you're always hungry." Carly didn't seem concerned about Sam and her answer, but almost looked to be insulted.

Sam began to make her way to the studio door. She suddenly felt lightheaded, as if all thoughts that had ever existed in her brain had been removed and replaced by only Carly and Freddie. Exiting the studio, she turned her head slightly and answered, "Well I guess today is just full of surprises then."


	8. Chapter 8

For the most part, Freddie hated the conversations that were becoming more common between him and Sam. It's not that he wanted to hate talking to her, but it just seemed that they couldn't get off the same topic. Although part of him wanted to be thrilled with the text from Sam that asked to meet him, he regrettably knew the reason she wanted to see him in her spare time. He supposed he could have said he was busy, or just ignore the text to truly try to forget about her completely; but there was, as always, that tiniest twinge of something inside Freddie that made him go. It was that exact twinge of something that still made it possible for Freddie to believe that one day Sam would ask to speak to him about the craziest, wildest idea of all… and so unrealistic that Freddie didn't even want to admit the idea to himself.

But just because something isn't mentioned doesn't mean it's not there.

Freddie proceeded to meet Sam at one of the many smoothie bars in Seattle. As he made his way there, he constantly checked over his shoulder, unsure why he felt the need to avoid Carly. She wouldn't have cared if she learned Freddie was going to talk to Sam – so explain why he felt like he needed to keep this a secret from her? Freddie had reached the smoothie bar before he could decipher an answer. Being a summer day, the small room was full of people desperately wanting to cool off. Sam though, with her long, wild blonde hair, was impossible to miss amongst the crowd.

"I didn't know they served fries here," Freddie said as he approached her table, gesturing to nearly empty container on the table.

"They don't," Sam smirked, her eyes still looking down, "and they also don't allow food from the outside in here either. Since I had just bought them on the way here though, I talked to the kid behind the counter. I think he and I are going to be very good friends." At last, Sam looked up with that familiar, devilish blue flash in her eyes. Following her gaze, Freddie glanced at the scrawny, geeky-looking boy who stood behind the counter, eyeing Sam with a petrified expression as he feared she would attack him at any moment.

"What exactly did you say to him?" Freddie asked, feeling guilty for the poor kid. Sam only shrugged in response, so with that he took a seat across from her. Freddie had expected Sam to attack him words the second he had sat down, but she was surprisingly silent. Sam had cast her eyes down again as she sipped her smoothie tentatively, almost as if she had forgotten Freddie was there.

She hadn't; not even close. Instead, she pulled a thin marker out from her pocket and grabbed Freddie's hand, her grasp light and, he found, unfamiliar. With the marker, Sam began to draw a swirling, twisted line on his pinky. Narrowing her eyes to keep herself focused, she carefully turned his hand back and forth to continue the line on either side of his pinky finger. The tickling sensation from the marker caused Freddie to smile, and when the tip reached his palm he asked with a small laugh, "What are you doing?"

"I never know what I'm doing," Sam replied through a sigh. Without lifting the pen up once, she continued the line onto the creases in Freddie's palm. "So I heard the big news," she spoke after a moment, still focused on her drawing, "about you and Carly going steady."

"Of course," Freddie muttered, rolling his eyes at the topic that Sam had brought up. After a moment, he suddenly turned to her and demanded, "Wait, what do you mean we're steady?_ We're steady?_ Who even uses that term today?"

"I'm just repeating what she told me. Pretty pathetic boyfriend you make though if you've already forgotten, or did you just confuse Carly up with one of your other secret girlfriends I don't know about?"

"What are you talking about Sam?" Freddie asked her angrily. When she didn't respond, he returned to his hand which she was still drawing on – if could even be called drawing. Sam was now scribbling dark black lines across the palm of Freddie's hand. The pen had strayed from the creases and seemed to have the goal of covering his whole skin in black ink. "Hey!" he snapped, snatching his hand away, "Stop it. Cut it out."

Sam dropped the pen on the table in a huff. "I should cut it out?" she asked, sounding insulted. "And what exactly would you like me to stop doing? As far as I'm aware, I haven't changed a bit."

"Well from where I stand, you seem like a nosy friend who's jealous of what I have with Carly. Who knew that one day the two of you would be fighting over me."

"I'm not jealous," Sam scoffed, "and no fucking way are Carly and I fighting over you because, thanks for the invitation, but I'm not interested. I'm actually more concerned about this whole act you've got going on with Carly though. God, you might as well start bleaching your teeth it's so fake!"

Freddie's mouth opened just as he caught the eye of a stranger across the room. He froze for a second, glancing around to see a few more eyes watching his table. Had he and Sam really been arguing that loudly? Feeling his face redden, he slammed his mouth shut and looked at Sam to see if she had noticed. Sam had put her elbows on the table, resting her face in her hands. Her fingers were spread wide, allowing her closed eyes to show through, making her look extremely exhausted or bored – Freddie was unsure.

Their argument couldn't continue, not inside at least where everyone could see them. It was humiliating, and what Freddie spoke next came out almost as soft as a whisper, just to ensure no one would overhear them anymore. "I shouldn't even be here. I mean if someone saw us and got the wrong idea… I mean if Carly found out or… I mean…"

He stopped dead. What did he mean? Anything he said would just end up sounding like he was regretting being there with Sam.

"Do you really like Carly?" Sam suddenly asked. She spoke through her hands, voice muffled as if she didn't really want Freddie to hear, as if she didn't really want him to answer.

"Me?" Freddie found himself stammering and slurring, "I uh…. Carlllwhadoyouuumeeeeeean…."

"I mean," Sam said impatiently, "do you like Carly? You don't have to love her or whatever, but do you have a crush on her or do you legitimately want to date her?"

"I already am dating her, sort of."

"Just answer the question Freddie."

He found himself glancing around the smoothie bar again, like he was afraid someone would hear his answer. After doing a second check with his eyes, Freddie almost wished someone had been watching them; then he would be able to have an excuse to postpone his answer. Yet he could not find a reason to hesitate, so he replied simply:

"Yes."

Sam inhaled deeply, replying with a tiny, "Oh."

Freddie arched his eyes in disbelief. "And what does that mean?"

"I don't know. That wasn't what I expecting."

"What?" Freddie shook his head slightly. "Sorry, and _what_ does that mean? What were you expecting?"

Sam just shrugged. Her eyes opened briefly before the spaces between her fingers suddenly closed. That really hadn't been the answer she was expecting at all. How could she be wrong after feeling absolutely sure that everything between Freddie and Carly was a scam? While she was trying to figure out how to put the lost, jumbled pieces in her mind together, she felt something ticklish move across her hand. Snapping her hands flat down onto the table, she realized that Freddie had picked up the marker and drawn a tiny question mark.

If Freddie was trying to ask her something, she didn't know how to respond.

Instead, Sam smiled lightly. She still didn't want to believe or say it, but she decided it was time to just accept what had been given to her, even if she didn't like it. "If you and Carly are for real," she told Freddie slowly, "then I'm happy for you."

Freddie smiled approvingly, waiting to feel relieved with this response. It would only make sense to feel like some huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders after getting the official _ok_ from Sam, which would mean everything could go back to normal between the three of them. Freddie began to sense that his smile was faltering, and tried to distract from the fact by looking around the room again. Amongst the tile floors and plastic chairs were more than two dozen people. It was true to say that no one was watching him and Sam anymore, their argument long forgotten in the minds of bystanders. If only it were that easy to erase it from his own mind, Freddie thought dejectedly; and the weight on his shoulders continued to increase.


	9. Chapter 9

There was complete silence as the two of them scrolled down their website page, reading the reviews of their latest iCarly show in the kitchen. Most of the reviews were positive, as always, but this time there were new comments. They weren't ratting on the show, but they certainly brought up a subject that had never once existed before.

"Look, there's another one." Carly's eyes darted down the computer screen. Her voice wobbled slightly as she read out the review, "'Great show, as always iCarly crew, but it wasn't one of your best. Carly and Sam, you guys just didn't mix as well as you usually do. Often you're completing each other's sentences, but this episode it seemed like you two hardly knew each other. Hope next time is better'."

"There's another right below it," Freddie sighed and read, "'Sam, what was up with you during this show? The best part of iCarly is when you make fun of the tech geek Frankie. You didn't even make fun of him once this episode!'" He paused for a moment and added bitterly, "Whoever this reviewer was could have at least tried to get my name right."

Carly quickly scrolled further down from that last review, saying reassuringly, "Just ignore it Freddie. I mean, most of these reviews are still really positive, right? Just be glad Sam isn't here to read these or else she would probably throw this computer out the window…" Carly's voice faded slowly as she scanned the last review on the website page. She swallowed, unable to read it and wondering if the blood in Freddie's veins had run cold like hers.

"Hey iCarly!!!!" the obnoxious reviewer had written, "This week's episode was awkward, and not a good awkward. Carly and Sam, if you two are in a fight or something, HURRY UP AND GET OVER IT BECAUSE IT'S TOTALLY OBVIOUS. The episode was too awkward to even LOL more than twice."

Clenching her teeth, Carly turned her back to the computer. "_The episode was too awkward to even LOL more than twice?_" she repeated frantically. "Who talks like that? It doesn't… it hardly makes sense!"

Freddie bit down hard on his lower lip. He raised an arm, about to rub Carly's shoulder to try and be comforting, but stopped midway. Feeling himself seize up, Freddie drew his fingers back into a fist and silently dropped his arm back down to his side. Knowing that she was waiting for him to do something, he said lamely, "It's just one review Carly."

Really? That was _all_ he could say to try and console his own _girlfriend? _

Carly hardly heard him though. She had crossed her arms, drumming her fingers in thought. Everything was supposed to be fine between her and Sam and Freddie. Things were finally going her way. So then what was the reason behind their show suffering? Exhaling suddenly, Carly turned back to Freddie with a determined look on her face. Without warning, she grabbed Freddie's shoulders and kissed him.

It was no good, that guilt. She tried; she really did try to enjoy it, pressing her lips harder against his to make it like something that was seen in those sappy movies that were really only good for visual kissing advice. She wanted to bring it to life, yet there was part of her that kept mentioning the fact that if they were at the stage she had thought they were at, she wouldn't have to worry about bringing anything to life; it should have just happened naturally. She kept pushing against his lips until she realized that just because she was kissing him hard didn't mean there was anything passionate about it. With a small sigh, she pulled back from him at last. It was then that a million guilt-ridden ideas whirled around in Carly's head, because suddenly it was time to admit what had been completely obvious.

"You're not thinking about me right now, are you?" Carly pointed out, a small laugh failing to cover the disappointment in her voice. "Even during that kiss, it was Sam who was on your mind."

Freddie felt his face pale. He couldn't even bother to open his mouth, because how could anyone admit a truth like that to their girlfriend? Watching Carly's dark eyes closely though, he came to the conclusion that she wasn't angry with him. She just looked sad.

"It's fine," Carly admitted, "I don't care, at least not really. It's been a faulty relationship from the beginning, hasn't it?"

Once again, Freddie didn't want to answer. He couldn't be sure if this was Carly's way of breaking up with him, or if he was someone silently breaking up with her. Instead, he asked, "Did you even ever like me?"

"I loved," Carly began hesitantly, "the idea of being with you, because I had gotten it in my head that I would feel better." She paused again, knowing that the confusion in Freddie's eyes meant she had to explain further. "It's like this: the more obvious it became that there was something between you and Sam, the lonelier I felt. And you can't blame me for feeling this because you and Sam were always off in your own little world all the time."

"So you tried to ruin what you thought was between Sam and I?" Freddie asked, shocked. The fact that Carly had seen something at all made Freddie feel funny, like his feet weren't touching the floor anymore. Of course, there was no promise that this was still the case after his faulty relationship with Carly; and just like that, Freddie touched back down. "You were jealous?" he added, irritation rising in his voice.

"Hey," Carly snapped, "for the record, I was convinced that I wasn't ruining anything because when I asked Sam she said she didn't like you!" The ramble of words only hit Carly after she had said them, and her eyes suddenly widened. "Freddie," she said quickly and quietly, "Freddie I'm sorry. I didn't… I mean, that was before all this… You really like her, don't you?"

Before the answer could even be revealed in Freddie's eyes, Spencer, oblivious to anything and everything that was going on, sprinted out of his bedroom. "Sheldon's alive!" he yelled, his goofy grin even larger than normal.

Carly held Freddie's stare a little longer before turning to her brother. With a sigh, she asked, "Was he ever dead?"

"No," Spencer replied, "but I thought he was really sick, remember? Well I finally decided to just tell Socko the truth, but after we talked over the phone he told me that Sheldon was fine and that, get this, hamsters are just nocturnal!"

Freddie had turned away slightly was Spencer, fiddling with his fingers. Spencer hadn't noticed though, and to avoid him from asking what was going on, Carly engaged herself into the conversation. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Spencer asked in disbelief. "Sheldon wasn't sleeping throughout the whole day because he was sick, but because that was when he was supposed to be sleeping. He was probably up all night running on his little wheel, only I didn't hear because I was asleep myself."

"Wow, crazy…"

"Isn't it? I'm going to have to stop my painting though," Spencer added. "There's no way I can make Sheldon stay up all day just to suit me. It's completely unnatural to him, not to mention unfair."

Carly frowned at this. "But don't you want to finish your painting? What are you supposed to do with it now?"

"Paint over it with something else I guess," Spencer answered with a shrug. "I guess I was a little upset at first, but I mean it's only fair. I've already made Sheldon suffer enough as it is. He probably hasn't a full day's sleep in more than a week."

Carly felt her body stiffen. Spencer said something about returning back to Sheldon, but she hardly heard him. After he left, she eyed Freddie who was still silent. He didn't give any signs, but she was sure he had realized the connection between Spencer's story with Sheldon to their own. Just as Spencer had felt guilty about his actions towards Sheldon, Carly was suddenly regretting everything that she caused between her, Sam and Freddie. She really had been scheming for her own good.

"Freddie?" she asked him softly.

When he looked at her, he frowned slightly and asked, "Do you think we're going to find this whole thing embarrassing, everything between us?"

Carly smiled at this. "You mean the fact that we made out in a park? Probably, and it would be best to just forget it all." After a moment of thought, she added, "Actually, you can forget about it, but I'll keep in the back of mind just in case I ever feel the need to plot against anyone ever again."

Freddie grinned at Carly, and she suddenly better. At least he wasn't completely furious at her, but then there was Sam. "Do you want me to talk to her?" Carly asked him. "I'm not just saying this Freddie, but I really think she did like –"

"It's fine," Freddie said quickly, shaking his head. "I think you've done enough for now."

Okay, so maybe Carly only felt a little bit better; most of the guilt was still there, as it should be. Not only had her choices and actions been incredibly self-centre, but they had also put tension on the friendship between her, Sam and Freddie, as well as put the iCarly show in jeopardy. Silently, Carly made a promise that if Freddie and Sam couldn't get over this event themselves, she would do everything possible to get them together – even if meant they would have to leave her out sometimes, even if it meant they would share something she couldn't have, everything. It was time for her to accept this, and realize that she couldn't always put her own needs before others.

It was amazing what you could learn from a man and his hamster.

**

* * *

**

A/N – Haha, so there was a connection between Sheldon and Carly's stories. Maybe you figured it out… ;)


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N – Here we go, last chapter! It was originally going to be two chapters, but internet has been failing so I continued to write and add onto it. Ahaha, I'm not going to lie, this fanfic was a little different than I expected it to be – darker, I suppose you could call it, then I originally wanted it to be. Wonder why… Anyways, I hope this made for an interesting read, and I'll be back eventually with some of the different ideas that are constantly forming. ;)**

* * *

It was in the old, almost forgotten staircase where Freddie noticed how warm his hands were. The metal railing was cool in his grasp, and he was pretty sure that climbing the never ending staircase wasn't the cause of his heated hands. No, Freddie was just anxious. He had purposely ignored the elevator in the lobby in order to prolong his arrival, but soon regretted this once he realized his nerves only deteriorated the longer it took him to get to his destination. Freddie's footsteps echoed loudly in the staircase, and he had a feeling he was the only person to have climbed the stairs in ages. Perhaps the last one to do so had been just as nervous as Freddie was now.

When he finally reached the correct floor, Freddie slowed down his pace even more until he came to a full stop outside the Puckett's apartment. He swallowed, unsure if he should knock or not. After a moment, he decided to see if anyone was even inside, and pressed his ear up against the door to listen. Since luck was rarely on Freddie's side though, the door suddenly swung open, having not been properly shut. It creaked loudly, causing a sharp shiver to run up Freddie's spine.

Eyes as wide as saucers, Freddie froze, staring into the messy living room of the Puckett apartment. Just when it appeared that no one was home, the confused voice of Sam rose from inside, calling out, "Mom?"

Before Freddie could even attempt to make a bolt for it, Sam emerged from her kitchen, a half eaten Eggo waffle in her hand. She didn't seem overly surprised to see a deer-in-the-headlights Freddie standing in her doorway, nor did she seem too impressed. Sam scanned Freddie up and down with her steel blue eyes, and then tried to look over his shoulder to see if he was with anyone else. With a mouth full of waffle, she asked flatly, "What's up, Freddio?"

Freddie felt himself straighten up, unaware that he had tensely raised his shoulders to practically his ears at being caught at Sam's apartment. Trying to swallow his nerves, he answered weakly, "How are you?"

Sam's eyes began to flash, that notorious smirk of hers forming on her lips. "I'm fine. I just thought you were my mom coming back from her date with a fireman. She only left fifteen minutes ago, but she's had relationships shorter than that before."

"She's dating a fireman?"

"Yup, he totally pulled up in a black tux and fire truck." Sam paused, dreamily staring up at the ceiling. "I just hope he comes up here after their date and forgets the keys in the ignition. Then we could totally take that thing out for a ride."

Freddie finally cracked a smile. "Uh, no thanks," he said with a laugh, and then hesitated before asking, "Can I come in?"

Sam suddenly took another large bite of her waffle. "Whatever," she shrugged, turning her back to Freddie quickly. She brought Freddie into the kitchen and the two of them sat down at the table. Freddie began to wring his hands anxiously, glancing around the messy kitchen. Sam kept her cool, nonchalant eyes on Freddie, waiting for the reason of his arrival.

"So your mom's dating a fireman," Freddie tried to begin casually, but when it became clear that he couldn't connect that topic to his own, he quickly muttered, "Carly and I broke up."

And then Sam sighed. _She sighed and rolled her eyes! _Even if Freddie and Carly's relationship hadn't been real, Freddie still found it irritating that Sam didn't show an ounce of sympathy! Sam snapped her gaze back to Freddie and said, "Oh, get over it already. You two just got into a fight, okay? Stop showing up and sharing every bit of your love life with me; I'm not interested. I don't want to get involved."

Freddie dropped his eyes in hopes of shielding his smile. "Sam," he said slowly, nerves rising again, "you're kind of already involved. We broke up because of you. I really, really like you Sam."

It was here that Freddie then explained it all to Sam. Carly's jealousy towards Sam and Freddie, her scheming and plotting to make sure nothing happened between them – all of it. Freddie still made sure to end the story in a way to not make Carly sound like a bad person, but that still didn't change the look of shock on Sam's face.

"Shit," she muttered, dropping her eyes to the table for a moment. Her hair fell forwards, covering her face so that it was impossible to see what she was thinking. When she finally did look back up, her eyes were narrow and sharp and completely irritated. "You guys broke up because you were convinced I liked you?"

Freddie hesitated nervously, "Carly thought the same as well, and she's never wrong."

"Yeah, well she thought she liked you and look how wrong she was then!" Sam snapped loudly, ending by clamping her teeth together.

"But what about that one iCarly rehearsal," Freddie sounded desperate, for this clearly wasn't the way he had thought it would go, "when I tackled you to the ground? What did you say then?"

"I don't remember."

"Yes you do! You said 'look where it got us this time', and it sounded … I thought you –"

"It was shameless flirting, Freddie. _Shameless_."

Sam glared at Freddie who was unable to meet her eye. His face was turning that adorable shade of crimson, causing Sam to exhale loudly. It couldn't have been easy to confess to someone you like them, only to be turned down. Tucking a blonde lock of hair behind her ear, she offered, "Here, I'll get us rockcandy. Dyed sugar on a stick can fix any awkward moment."

This caused a corner of Freddie's mouth to curl up tentatively, and even if it were just for a moment it made Sam feel a little better. As she searched for the rockcandy, she hesitated before adding teasingly, "And don't worry Freddie, you'll get over me in no time."

Freddie was pretty sure he wouldn't, and somewhere as the silence thickened, Sam realized this as well.

* * *

Carly kept checking her phone as she anxiously stood in line waiting for a smoothie. It wasn't the waiting in line that was making her anxious, clearly, but the knowing that as she stood there Freddie was off confessing everything to Sam. Carly had made Freddie promise to send her a text after the plan of winning back Sam had fallen through perfectly, but as she watched her silent phone she had a good feeling that Sam was being difficult – as always.

It was on the walk to the smoothie bar that Carly realized that she really did want Freddie and Sam to be together. Any emptiness, loneliness or jealousy that she may have felt before had subsided, and just thinking about how dramatic she had been before made her blush. Did she really think that Sam and Freddie were going to forget about her just because they were dating? It all seemed so childish. Now if only Freddie would send her that reassuring text!

"Hi, I'll have a mango smoothie," Carly said when she reached the cash register. She then struggled to pull out the proper amount of cash from her purse while still eyeing her phone like a hawk. "Sorry," she muttered, "I know have another dollar in here somewhere."

"It's fine. You can have this one for free."

Carly looked up in surprise, and then continued to stay surprised as she stared into the dark green eyes of her sun-kissed server. "You…" Carly said slowly, so caught off guard by the six foot gorgeousness standing in front of her she couldn't speak clearly, "you… are new here."

"Started yesterday," he told her with a lopsided smile. "The name's Brandon."

"I'm Carl," she replied as she picked up her smoothie, "I mean Carly. I'm Carly." She then stood there for a moment, not wanting to leave but found herself saying, "Well I'll see you around."

Carly floated her way to the closest table. Sitting down, she paused before glancing over her shoulder to find she was meeting Brandon's eye. And just like that, Carly forgot about the text she had made Freddie promise to send her, slipping her phone into her purse. Instead, she was wondering how many smoothies she would have to order before Brandon would finally ask to sit with her.

* * *

Freddie wasn't hungry that night at dinner. He also wasn't in the mood to have to fight away the forkful of food his mom was try to shove down his throat, but that was unpreventable. After sitting at the table for much too long, Freddie's mom finally allowed him to leave, claiming she couldn't miss the new episode of one of her soap operas that was about to start. Freddie used this excuse to bolt to his room, closing the door behind him and crashing on his bed. Maybe he would never want to eat again – at least not as long as this feeling continued. Freddie was pretty sure people called it being love sick, or something along those pathetically embarrassing lines that made him cringe to admit.

He buried his face into his pillow, desperately wanting to fall asleep so he could forget about the day's events, even if just for a few hours. Lucky for him, he began to feel himself doze in and out, with the help of listening to his breathing, the ticking clock on the wall, and the constant tapping on his window.

And then he sat up, eyes wide and staring in the direction of the dark window. The tapping had stopped, but he had been certain it had been there only a minute before. His heart skipped a beat as he jumped off his bed and slowly made his way across the room. _It has to be, _he told himself, _it has to be her… or burglar. _Taking the risk, he opened the window and whispered, "Sam? Are you there?"

With no response, he climbed out through the window. The second both of his feet landed on the fire escape, a pair of hands suddenly grabbed the neck of his shirt and shoved him up against wall of the apartment building. His head snapped against the brick, causing his vision to blur for a moment. It didn't matter though, because he knew only one person with a grip like that.

"Do you have any idea," Sam yelled, "how pissed off I am at you? I am SO angry at you!" She shook Freddie a couple times before letting go and pointing to the rail. "Now tell me why the hell I'm not throwing you off this fire escape right now."

Freddie took half a step away from the wall, wincing as he gingerly touched the back of his head. He could feel a bruise already forming, but something told him no matter how he answered, he would probably be getting another. That was why he told himself to just say it.

"Because you like me?"

To his surprise, Sam didn't attack him. Instead, she dropped her arm and shook her head, muttering, "I hate you." As she spoke this though, that infamous smirk twirled up on one side of his mouth.

Freddie bit the inside of his cheek nervously. "Well do you?" he asked. "Do you like me?"

"Well I did," Sam snapped, rolling her eyes and adding, "Imagine; Sam Puckett admitting she had a thing for a nerd. I should just throw myself off this fire escape."

"You did? Did, as in not anymore? Why?"

"Because you went off and dated Carly, clearly. And I know you said it didn't mean anything and you and Carls were both just going along with it, but god Freddie! It hurt."

It was like the whole city had gone quiet at this remark. Freddie swallowed anxiously, unfamiliar with something like this coming from Sam. "I'm sorry," he stammered, desperately wanting to say something more but at a loss for words.

"Yeah, and you're also stupid." Sam arched her eyebrows at Freddie in that typical Sam way. She took a step towards him, hands clenched in fists. Sam raised her arms and then said quickly, "So consider yourself lucky that I still like you when you're stupid."

The only thing that hit Freddie's face was Sam's own lips. Freddie was unable to suppress the grin that spread across his face. He had to pull back, asking, "Are you serious?"

Sam rolled her eyes and answered sarcastically, "No Freddork, I'm just kissing you because I'm bored." Freddie would have been surprised by any other reponse, and he wrapped his arms around Sam's hips, still smiling as he leaned back into her. Sam laughed into the kiss, still not quite believing that she was actually enjoying this when it was Freddie. She wouldn't have wanted it any other way though. Just her and Freddie, adding another memory to their fire escape scrapbook.

_x0_

_Vintage88_


End file.
